


all around is stone, all is soft inside

by karadeniz



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, but it's not both at the same time because i'm not a masochist, but only light angst, in their case it could be either of them let's be honest, it's the trope where one gets hurt and the other goes all soft on them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karadeniz/pseuds/karadeniz
Summary: He had never thought about the possibility of her losing a fight. Of losing her in a fight. It was foolish, he realised that now.
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach
Comments: 20
Kudos: 89





	all around is stone, all is soft inside

Eist hadn't thought much of it when he'd arrived in Cintra and had not been welcomed by Calanthe but one of her ladies in waiting, who'd told him the queen had been held up. After three hours however he began to wonder. He'd given her notice of his visit, and he had gotten used to her being eager to see him -- not that she would intentionally show it, but he could tell by the slight flush that would creep into her cheeks from time to time, even when she tried to hide it, and by the glint in her eyes when she looked at him, which, he knew, was being reflected equally in his. It was all still so very tentative, and they tried to keep a low profile on their... courtship. He supposed that was what it was. Nothing official, but good nevertheless.

And usually, when he arrived, she would welcome him, even if it was merely a brief exchange before she had to tend to other things again. The fact that it had been three hours was odd, and he couldn't help the feeling of worry creeping up in him. Restless, he left his quarters and wandered the corridors. Close to the royal chambers, he stopped a servant in his tracks to ask him after the queen, when a shout from a room got his attention.

"Nevermind," he said to the man before going to find the source of the commotion, only to see the queen sitting on a high cot, in company of another young man who seemed rather terrified.

"Just snap the damn thing back into place," Calanthe growled at the man through gritted teeth, "as is your job."

Calanthe looked terribly pale, and she was trembling slightly. That was when he noticed the odd angle of her shoulder and sucked in a breath as he understood.

The queen's head shot up at the sound.

"Eist."

He was at her side in a heartbeat.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I dislocated my shoulder, is what happened, and this sad excuse of a physician," the other person in the room with them winced under her glare, "is too much of a chicken to do his goddamn job." She took a deep breath. "My old physician died last week, unexpectedly, and really inconveniently, too, because his replacement is tragically inept."

The poor boy turned to Eist with a desperate expression on his face. "I'm only an apprentice, I have never done this before," he explained hastily, "I don't know how to do this."

Before Eist could open his mouth, Calanthe snapped.

"For heaven's sake, how hard can it be!"

Eist mustered her. Her angry glare could not hide the glossy look in her eyes, and beads of sweat were on her face, which began to look as white as a sheet. It struck him then that her fury was not coming from a place of mere irritation -- it was pain. 

"Lad," he said firmly to the fidgeting boy, "go to the guest chambers, ask for the druid from Skellige, and bring him here immediately. Understood?"

"Yes," the boy breathed out and hurried off with no moment of hesitation, no doubt glad to leave the room.

Once he'd left, Eist turned back to Calanthe, his expression gentle, but decisive.

"Lay back."

She understood his intentions instantly, and settled on the cot without protest. He stepped to her left side and reached out to carefully take her hand in his. It felt cold, and clammy, but her grip was surprisingly firm as she returned his grasp.

"You know how this works?" he asked her.

"Vaguely. You?"

"Vaguely." He swallowed. "You still want me to do this?"

Her fingers closed around his tighter in confirmation and she took a deep breath. 

"Do it."

Eist didn't count down, didn't try to ease her into it, because he knew she didn't need it. She had already prepared herself for it.

He had not. The feeling when he pulled hard, and the whimper that escaped Calanthe's lips was something that he wished to never relive again. But when he saw her pained expression turn to one of relief, and all the muscles in her body relax, he knew he would do it a thousand times over again, anyway.

He helped her sit up, carefully avoiding the injured arm, before he sat down at the edge of the cot to face her.

"So, what happened exactly?"

She met his eyes but didn't speak.

"Has there been a fight? Did somebody hurt you?" His voice came out much softer than he'd meant to. The sudden image of her in battle flashed through his mind, and he noticed that, while he'd always been aware that she was a warrior, an incredibly capable one, too, he had never really thought about the possibility of her losing a fight. Of losing her in a fight. It was foolish, he realised that now, and there was an unsettling feeling taking hold of him, one that he couldn't quite place.

"No, nothing like that," she muttered, carefully avoiding his gaze. "It's been a peaceful year."

"Calanthe," he tried again, lightly squeezing her hand, which he now noted he'd never let go of after he'd fixed her shoulder.

Her eyes went to their joined hands, too, before finally coming up to meet his. Then she let out a huff.

"I fell off a horse." She spoke so quietly and quickly he wasn't sure he'd heard her right. 

He blinked. "What?"

"It got spooked and I fell off the damn horse, okay?"

She looked so displeased and it seemed so trivial now, compared to the scenarios his brain had rushed him through just moments earlier, that he couldn't help the small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

"I see. Why didn't you just say?"

"Because it's fucking embarrassing!" she exclaimed before she bit her lip, but he'd already understood.

"I see," he said again. "It's not, you know. Embarrassing. It doesn't change the way I see you."

She glowered at him.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because," he said while reaching out to brush a few strands of hair clinging to her clammy skin from her face, "I'm relieved you weren't in any real danger."

Almost absently, his thumb traced her cheekbone with the lightest touch.

"I would wish to never see you get hurt again, though, either. I have experienced that now, and I do not care for it."

The hardness melted from her features into something softer, quieter, and he found himself leaning forward, his hand still resting on her jaw, and her eyes fluttered close as his nose brushed against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against his lips --

they jumped apart when the door swung open and both druid and young physician apprentice rushed in.

The boy seemed unaware of their intrusion, but Mousesack raised his eyebrows for a second, before stepping towards the queen.

The druid opened the small case he'd brought, while Calanthe opened the buttons on her tunic to pull the fabric down to expose her shoulder. In any other moment, Eist would've been distracted by the slender collarbones, or the curve of her neck, but the discoloration around her shoulder drew any thought away from that.

And suddenly, as he watched the druid tend to the queen, mending her aching bones and bruised skin, he realised that the feeling he could not find a name for earlier, because he had never felt it in this way before, was fear.

Finally, after a long while, Mousesack got up.

"You need to favor that arm for at least a month, your majesty," he said to the queen. "No strenuous endeavors, no exceptions."

As he was about to leave, he halted by Eist's side for a moment and murmured, "With all due respect, my lord, two times stumbling into the both of you is quite enough. _Please_ let's not make this a habit." And with that he disappeared, taking the boy with him and leaving the two of them alone. 

Eist turned to Calanthe to find her looking at him.

"Your druid has unfortunate timing," she commented dryly, and he snorted.

"That's what he said."

"So where were we?"

A soft blush had appeared on her face, and if it was her body recovering from the exertion, or something else, he did not know. The glint in her eyes, however, he recognised , and, without wasting another moment, he returned to her side, cradling her face with both hands and kissed her. She sighed softly against his lips, her own fingers coming to rest against his neck, and he was certain she could feel his heartbeat drumming against them.

When he pulled back, he did so only slightly, to press another kiss to her forehead.

"It's good to see you," he heard her murmur.

"Yes," he agreed, before placing a hand to raise her chin so he could meet her eyes, "but, one more thing. I need to know that you know that nothing, nothing, is going to make me think less of you. And if you get hurt, I'd rather be by your side, than uphold the illusion of invulnerability that neither of us possess."

She looked at him for a moment, before she gave him an eye roll and a sigh.

"Fine."

"Good," he smiled before leaning back in to kiss her again. "You do realise we could have already been doing this three hours ago?"

She bit his lip in response.

**Author's Note:**

> and as always, thank you so much for reading! like, really, SO MUCH


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